


Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by Bitter_Baristas



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), spide
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Days, Blow Jobs, Coffee, College Student Peter, Crack, Crying, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Established Relationship, Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Love Bites, M/M, Male Slash, Not Serious, Oral Sex, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Rimming, Some Humor, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, coffee addict peter parker, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitter_Baristas/pseuds/Bitter_Baristas
Summary: Peter has his evening planned out and half a coffee left. He’s got this.A voice carries on the breeze.“Can you believe what they’re saying about Spider-Man? It’s fucking slander.” A teenager says, angrily crumpling a newspaper and throwing it into a trash can.Peter’s first thought is, what teenager buys the newspaper. His next thought is, don’t do it. Don’t do it, Parker.But he’s already grabbing the newspaper from the garbage and smoothing out the wrinkles.





	Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> Peter has had a really bad week. Between falling behind with college and Tony increasing his training schedule for no discernable reason and Jamerson refusing all his photos saying they weren’t ‘snappy enough’. It all came to a head when he was on his way to Wade’s and he finds a discarded newspaper running a story on a building fire that Spiderman saved eight people in, but focused on the two he couldn’t get out. Wade is used to being the emotionally shaky one, but when Peter walked in with a few tears in his eyes and a perpetually exhausted look he was ready to step up and look after his baby boy. But Peter doesn’t want to focus on it and could really use just getting laid. Enter the rarely seen but always appreciated, service top Wade.

He really shouldn’t be buying a coffee. He’s broke as fuck after Jameson refused his last batch of photos because they weren’t ‘snappy enough’, whatever that means. Honestly, what does the man want? Pictures of Spider-Man making jazz hands? Maybe he should bedazzle his suit. _That_ would give the press a field day.

No, he can’t afford this five dollar coconut macchiato, but he deserves it after the week he’s had.

“Punch card?” The barista asks, and Peter digs in his pocket. The college age girl punches the card and hands it back, smiling sympathetically. “You’re almost at your free one. School kicking your butt, too?”

Peter nods, suddenly sheepish because while this person clearly knows him he has no idea who they are.

“Thanks, have a good day.” Peter flees the coffee shop and any further small talk. He can’t handle social obligations right now. Tony is demanding he spend more time training and he can’t keep putting off homework. He has two essays to write, fifteen pages of assorted science related bookwork to slog through, and a report due for a book he hasn’t even finished. He has enough on his mind without chit-chatting with another student about his work load.

He thinks if he verbally admitted how much he has to do he’d have a breakdown. And he _certainly_ doesn’t have time for that.

Peter starts the walk to May’s apartment, where he chose to stay instead of a dorm. That decision had nothing to do with the fact he couldn’t afford living on campus. Nope. He was just a good nephew who liked being nearby in case his aunt needed help.

He creates a mental checklist. Tony will be irritated for being brushed off today, but he won’t hold it against Peter. Well, maybe he would, but Peter doesn’t care about that right now. He’ll cough up the eleven dollars and buy an audiobook for the one he hasn’t read, listen to it while he finishes his science homework. He can bust out a ‘C+’ worthy book report in forty minutes, an hour, tops. By then he’ll need another caffeine boost, but he’s pretty sure he has a few more Red Bulls tucked away under his bed, hidden from May’s disapproving eyes.

Energy drinks were _technically_ banned in the Parker house, but even Spider-Man is a breaker of unjust laws. Besides, if it came down to him flunking out of college and drinking something bad for him, May would probably care more about college.

Peter has his evening planned out and half a coffee left. He’s got this.

A voice carries on the breeze.

“Can you believe what they’re saying about Spider-Man? It’s fucking slander.” A teenager says, angrily crumpling a newspaper and throwing it into a trash can.

Peter’s first thought is, _what teenager buys the newspaper_ . His next thought is, _don’t do it. Don’t do it, Parker._

But he’s already grabbing the newspaper from the garbage and smoothing out the wrinkles. The front page is a picture of a burning apartment complex Peter had saved eight people from. The headline, of course, ignores that. Large, bold words punch the air out of Peter’s lungs.

**“Two Dead After Spider-Man’s Failure.”**

Spider-Man’s failure. As if he was the one to put those people in danger, as if he hadn’t risked his own well being to save _anyone_ in the first place. Tears sear his eyes and in just a moment his schedule is wiped clean. No training, no homework. No _nothing_ for the rest of the day.

Peter changes course for Wade’s apartment. In part because he doesn’t want May to see him like this, and in part because his boyfriend will be the only one able to soothe his _anger hurt pain_.

* * *

 

Wade isn’t expecting his baby boy today, but he never locks his door because anyone who broke into his shit hole of an apartment would meet a swift and bloody end.

He’s busy cleaning his kitchen for the next time his Petey-pie decides to grace him with his presence. Soda cans covering the carpet is one thing, dishes growing an ecosystem in the sink is another. And how is he supposed to impress Peter with his cooking skills if Peter refuses to eat anything he makes because ‘that can’t be sanitary’.

As if their healing factors didn’t make foodborne illnesses anything but an unpleasant afternoon.

Still, Peter agreeing to a relationship was reason enough to scrub his whole apartment with bleach. That’s actually what he intends to do to his bathroom next when a familiar voice calls his name.

One word out of Peter’s mouth is all it takes for Wade to know his baby boy is having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Now, Wade is used to being the one who needs comforting, and to be honest he’s proven to be a shit comforter in the past, but this is _Peter._  The love of his life.

Wade would do literally _anything_ for Peter. And right now anything involves turning that frown upside down. Wade is about to sweep Peter into a hug, tell him everything is going to be okay when Peter crosses the distance between them and yanks Wade into a desperate kiss.

Fingers curl into the fabric of Wade’s shirt and Peter lowers to his heels from the tiptoes he’d had to stand on to kiss Wade. “Fuck me.” He says, soft and sweet.

What. The. Fuck.

Peter glares at him, eyes still wet with tears. “Did I stutter? I said fuck me.”

Did he say that out loud? Peter groans and pulls Wade in for another kiss. “Less talk, more dick up my ass.”

“No, no,” Wade shakes his head, waves his hands in a ‘hold on’ gesture. “You’re crying, and you want me to fuck you? Me, as in _me_ , fuck _you_. The world's most topping twink?”

Peter nods, “yep. You got it. So why are you still wearing pants?”

Wade and his boxes have no response. Peter drags Wade along to the bedroom and flops back onto the mattress, looking small and frail on the rumpled sheets. “I just want to forget everything for a while, can you help me do that?” His voice dips into a softer, less bossy tone.

Wade can absolutely do that. It’s not everyday Peter wants to bottom, and he’s not going to waste this opportunity. There will be time for talk and sticky sad feelings afterwards.

Wade’s body covers Peter and the younger latches onto him, like a shipwrecked survivor clinging to debris to keep afloat.

“Whatever you want, baby boy.” He growls, and Peter shudders. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name. And you’d better be shouting it.”

Yellow congratulates him on his Dom dirty talk, but now isn’t really the time for patting himself on the back. Now is the time for making Peter writhe with pleasure.

Their lips crash in a kiss that is needy and depraved and he is going to cuddle Peter so hard when they’re done. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down Peter’s throat, where he sucks and bites harshly to make a dark love-mark that will be faded by tomorrow. It’s a shame that his hickies don’t linger on Peter’s skin, but Wade chooses not to lament this. Not when he has so many more things to do that will make Peter want only him for the rest of his life.

He licks pink nipples, sucks them into his mouth until they’re a rosy hue. Peter squirms and whines, his hips rising to rut against the hard muscle of Wade’s thigh. Wade laughs lowly.

“Like that, baby boy?”

Peter’s response is a strangled string of words that sound affirmative enough. Wade works his way down and expertly pops open Peter’s jeans, tugging them off to reveal rocket-ship decorated briefs. Despite his arousal, Peter has the acuity to be embarrassed by his underwear.

“They were on sale.” He explains needlessly, and Wade knows it’s a lie.

“They suit you, cutie.” His fingers hook into the underwears elastic band. “But I’m more interested in what’s under these adorkable panties.” He yanks them down and Peter’s length bobs to attention. Wade doesn’t hesitate to swallow him down. The man chokes on his breath and arches into the heat. Wade grins against curly pubic hair, pulls off.

The cry of protest he receives is beautiful.

He ignores Peter’s glare and slides down farther on the bed, maneuvers them so Peter’s knees are hooked over his shoulders. Wade thumbs lush cheeks apart and dives.

Peter’s yelps of surprise soon turn to moans of pleasure as Wade mouths at his hole. He nips at the rim, prods with his tongue without slipping inside. His little lover squirms, alternating between pressing down to meet the sensation and trying to arch against Wade's hands to escape it. Wade thrusts inside, distantly grateful for all his previous ass-eating experience that is currently the reason Peter is writhing and his tongue isn't cramping. 

The thrill of making his spunky boyfriend find pleasure in his momentary vulnerability has Wade hard with no physical stimulation, every moan out of Peter's sweet mouth going straight to his cock.   

He goes until Peter's thighs tremble and his crack is slick. 

“Wade,” Peter whines, and Wade understands what he means through just one word. He slips out from under Peter’s legs and grabs the bottle of lube kept in his nightstand.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.”

“Hurry,” Peter might intend for this to be a command, but it comes across as a plea. Wade obeys either way, slipping a lubed finger inside. He works it in and out, adding another when Peter presses down on the intrusion. He scissors Peter open, unwilling to cause his lover unnecessary hurt.

When he’s satisfied that Peter is stretched he slathers his own member with lube and lines the blunt tip at the tight entrance. He goes slowly. Peter is so much smaller than Wade is, and he’s a well endowed man.

Peter doesn’t appreciate the tenderness.

“Wade, please, more.”

Fuck if he could deny Peter anything. “Since you asked so nicely,” Wade concedes, slamming home.

Peter gasps sharply, and Wade freezes. Arms twine around his neck and clamp down. “Move,” Peter snarls, every bit as controlling as when he tops. Wade complies.

He pulls back and rams into Peter’s heat with a force that rocks his rickety bed frame.

A wet sob wrenches out of Peter. Tears leak down his temples, shiny paths on his skin. “Don’t stop.” He begs.

Wade’s cock batters into Peter’s willing body, shoving away the days stress.

“Fuck, I love you, Peter.” Wade groans, the coil in his stomach drawing tighter.

“Love you too, Wade.” Peter says, a rare admission of feeling. “So much. So good, yes,” He babbles nonsensically and Wade jerks him in time with his thrusts.

Peter tenses all over, spilling his seed in Wade’s hand, goes lax. Wade doesn’t take much longer to find his release, his balls tight against his cock. The coil snaps and warmth fills Peter.

Wade huffs, laying heavily beside his little lover. Peter snuggles up to him immediately. Wade kisses the top of his head, holds him close.

He waits patiently for Peter to regale him with his awful day. When he starts crying again, Wade comforts him properly. With hugs, kisses, and Disney movies. And hot chocolate with mini marshmallows.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference to "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst


End file.
